WiR 2: What is Wanted :)
by the pixlexic sloth
Summary: Vanellope knows what brick wall she has to knock down...and Ralph knows he must keep his identity intact...But at what cost to the both of them? What is really wanted- and what is really needed? (Third in a series of one-shots surrounding the WiR 2 plot and some of it's scenes :))


**WiR 2: What is Wanted :)**

**(A/N: This is a sequel to "Brick Wall" and "Wrecked Identity", although they stayed more canon into the actual events in the movie (mostly just getting into Ralph's and Vanellope's head).**

**But this strays mightly from canon because although I got the verbal fight Vanellope and Ralph had in WiR 2, I wish a fight like this had happened earlier in the movie. To me, it would've made more sense (and made things more emotional) for Ralph to try and 'talk it out' with Vanellope instead of immediately resorting to going to the Dark Net and getting the insecurity virus. And although I got why he did, Ralph releasing the virus without even _trying_ to speak to Vanellope first seemed kinda off and odd to me, anyway; he could've at least tried to reason with her first instead of trying to corrupt the game.**

**So this one-shot is the discussion and verbal fight between Ralph and Vanellope.** **(It goes back and forth between his and her perspective, each fighting for what they each think is right.**)

**The scene: After hearing her reveal how she truly feels to Shank, Ralph immediately goes to Slaughter Race to talk with Vanellope in person about her decision to stay in the game. This attempt fails, of course, and leads to ****_multiple_** **hearts getting broken...**

**Hope all enjoy!!)**

The hot, muggy air was thick and heavy, blowing through Ralph's auburn hair- yet stinging him and icing his straight to his code for some odd reason. He was somehow able to ignore the practically unwelcoming atmosphere around him, everything that was in the fierce, post-apocalyptic racing game Slaughter Race. Although, admittedly, in the distance, he could hear a race car's engine rev up loudly... and he felt subconsciously tense up when he heard a hungry shark bursting up from the sewers somewhere out there.

Striving to ignore the mounting, numbing ache overtaking his poor head, the wrecker resolved to stop ignoring the harsh land and took it in for a split moment in time, realizing that it was mostly bare of any character life except for him...

And Vanellope, of course, standing before him with her arms crossed and sending him a shaky yet intimidating glare.

Mentally blocking out everything but her, Ralph couldn't help but blankly blink down at his tiny but bold best friend. He could literally feel how dark his eyes were getting suddenly...how _blurry_ they were getting suddenly.

_This just can't be happening..._

After all he'd been through...after everything they had gone through _together_...

After all videos they both- no, correction: _he_ had been forced to make...after all the crazy, wacko, completely _bonkers_ people and situations of all shapes and sizes both he and Vanellope had left the safety of the arcade to unfortunately encounter...

And now that they finally, _finally_ got the new Sugar Rush steering wheel paid for and shipped off, their one-way ticket back to normalcy again...

Ralph just couldn't believe Vanellope.

How could she? How could she have could change the way she did, feel the way she did, act the way she did? _Said _the things she said?

How could she reveal -to _Shank_, of all people- that she wanted to stay here in the Internet? Here in Slaughter Race, in particular...instead of going back home with Ralph?...

Forever living here in the crazy racing game...Without her Stink Brain being by her side?...

_This just can't be happening..._

Before him, Vanellope openly saw the glares of disbelief and disappointment... and _pain_ she was receiving from Ralph. She tried her best to glare back up at him with those same sentiments, attempting to dare him to change her mind- although doing so was a lot harder than she anticipated...

Especially as her own vision started to get cloudy.

Her heart was pounding harder than she ever remembered it doing, racing faster and faster than any car she had ever been in. Her stomach churned and did summersaults repeatedly, causing her to abandon her stance and to fidget absentmindedly with her hoodie's pull strings.

_Can I do this?_ _Can I really tell Ralph the truth- as painful as it may be to him?..._

Sighing shakily, Vanellope suddenly held her head up high and strong- as much as she could, at least.

She was determined, she reminded herself. Determined that this wicked awesome game around her deserved to be fought for, taken a big, _big_ risk on...

It was simply where the child belonged now, after all. Slaughter Race was her new home- and that was that.

_Ralph is just going to have to accept that. Or at the very least, understand that..._

_He had heard what I said to Shank- and now he needs to know what I said was the truth._

The thick and silent tense between them getting harder and harder to bear, the child gulped down the slowly growing knot in her throat. Sighing one last time, Vanellope stood tall- and finally spoke to her best friend in person.

"What- what you heard me tell Shank is true, Ralph. I-I'm staying here in Slaughter Race," the adamant child shakily confirmed to him, trying to make her words slow and deliberate- and soft in their plows. "A-and that's final."

Rubbing the bridge of his nose with his over-sized fingers, Ralph sighed out slow and shakily. His headache was the worst it had ever been, which made him completely unsure of how to appropriately -and calmly- answer the child at first.

"What-what about everyone else in Sugar Rush, huh?" he finally shot gently at her, his occupied hand giving up in its plight to relieve his headache and dropping to his side. "They were counting on you to get the steering wheel to fix the game and come back home to lead them again!"

Snorting, Vanellope glared at him and rolled her eyes disdainfully at his words.

_You__ have __to__ be kidding, right? __There's no way I'm returning the game I'm leaving behind forever. Besides..._

"_You've_ got the wheel paid for now, right?" the child verbally continued in her line of thought, her raspy voice a little bit stronger and sharper as she tossed her head flippantly. "It'll be delivered Wednesday morning, right? So there's no real need for me to return."

In front of her, Ralph snorted indignantly and in awe at her attitude, disgusted at the seriously arrogant tone the girl suddenly giving off.

_This isn't the Vanellope I know. What has Shank done to her?..._

"Uh, who said you _shouldn't_ return to the game, Fart Feather?!" The wrecker growled back at her, his voice matching her sharper tone. "Sugar Rush is _your_ game, isn't it?!!"

"_Was_," the child reminded him, nodding pointedly at him. "Sugar Rush _was_ my game, Stink Brain."

Sighing slowly again yet, Ralph used his tongue to trace his bottom front teeth. He closed his eyes in growing pain- and in sharpening denial.

_This can not be happening..._

And it wasn't happening.

No matter what, it was _always_ going to be Ralph and Vanellope. Always. Nothing, no one, and no place would ever become the two of them. Ever.

Vanellope just needed to see that -and remember that, he knew. She loved Ralph; he was her best friend, after all. He believed that with everything he had- and was going to fight for it.

He could do that, he confidently knew. He could undo all that brainwashing Shank had done to his kid...and things between his little Vanellope and him would go back to how the perfectly were...

And his precious identity in her would remain firmly intact.

"Kid...," the wrecker began, slowly opening his eyes as he looked at the child before him with sincere softness and gentleness. "Are you _really_ just going to abandon all your game mates and leave them behind because you think Sugar Rush is 'boring' and 'uncool' and 'childish', or because Slaughter Race is 'better' than Sugar Rush-"

"I never said Sugar Rush was 'boring', 'uncool' or 'childish', Ralph!" Vanellope interrupted, her voice firmer suddenly as her eyes narrowed in defense. "And I never said Slaughter Race is necessarily even better than Sugar Rush! Don't put those words in my mouth!"

"Then why are you choosing Slaughter Race over Sugar Rush, huh?" Ralph pressed, his huge hands gesturing wildly. "Why do you suddenly love this game...which you're _abandoning_ everyone back home for...and hate Sugar Rush?!!"

"Oh, come _on_," Vanellope rolled her head back dramatically, beyond annoyed with Ralph's words. "I don't _hate_ Sugar Rush, Ralph!"

His eyebrows shooting up his forehead, the wrecker stared at the child before him for a moment, her words taking a moment to sink in.

Maybe, just maybe...there was hope?

"You...don't?" Ralph was finally able to ask, as if he needed further confirmation than what was written on Vanellope's pointed face.

"No_, ga-doi!_ That's pretty obvious, Einstein!" the child hissed, her trademark sass seeping from her tone...bringing Ralph a strange amount of comfort along with her words. "Why'd I come all the way to the Internet to risk my tail hide for a game I don't love? Why'd I fight so hard for it, go through so much to save it if I could care less about Sugar Rush? That's my first game, and where I learned to drive, for Sega's sakes!" she pointed out, her head shaking slightly in disgust that Ralph didn't make that connection on his own.

Allowing her eyes and tone to soften considerably, though, Vanellope looked away from Ralph's shocked mien and stared down at her small, twisting fingers.

"I'll _always_ love Sugar Rush, Ralph...It's great, really... I just don't belong there...not the way I do here, at least..."

At her voice growing softer at her last words, the child trailed off- suddenly unsure of how to convincingly explain her love for _both_ games as Ralph eyed her in growing confusion.

"Slaughter Race is...well..._different_ for Sugar Rush. In a good way," she finally concluded, her large eyes finally looking back Ralph as they tried to read his blank reaction to her truthful words.

Abandoning fiddling her thumbs, she quickly shoved her hands in her hoodie pocket to busy herself. "This game has a different thing going for it, a more..._challenging_ thing going for it. Less of a little girlish vibe that Sugar Rush has, and a more tomboy, rough and tough vibe, ya know?"

Wincing, the child turned to eye the desert-esque ground beside her. She hated how weird her voice sounded there at the end, how pathetic her words she came out...

How desperate she came off for him to understand just how she felt.

_Maybe I need him to understand more than I can ever really admit..._

All of her heavy, truthful words finally sinking inside his mind, Ralph slowly shook his head at her. His headache now completely clouding his already fuzzy thinking, the wrecker was now beyond confused at what it all meant.

Sure, Vanellope was all tomboy, that was for sure...

But leaving her game because of it? Going _Turbo_ because of it?

..._S__he still loves Sugar Rush, but doesn't want to live there anymore? __That doesn't even make any sense! How could she care about the game yet not want to live in it anymore? How can she still like Sugar Rush but clearly favor Slaughter Race over it?..._

_How can she still love something so much yet let it go so easily?.._.

Trying to find satisfying answers, the wrecker quickly decided _was_ no logical explanation for Vanellope's words as he scratched the top of his head. Nothing she was saying made sense to him- and that was partially because he didn't want it to.

Suddenly remembering the other part of his accusation, Vanellope quit wincing and narrowed her eyes sharply up her best friend before he could say anything.

"But just because I want to stay here in Slaughter Race _doesn't mean _I'm **_abandoning_** anyone back in Sugar Rush!" She hissed out, her hands slipping out of her hoodie pockets and now little determined fists at her sides.

Sucked out of the cloudiness of his mind, Ralph jumped a bit at his little sister's denial.

"Uh, yes, it _does_, Fart Feather!" he corrected the child, narrowing his own eyes at her. "You're abandoning your game mates, your fellow racers back in the arcade...all your friends..."

He felt his tone go softer as he lowered his head- although he pointedly ignored just how pathetic and wobbly his voice sounded in regards to his last few words...

In response, though, Vanellope tossed her head up higher in aggravation and rolled her eyes. She childishly crossed her arms over her chest again in annoyance, a stiff breeze of smog blowing her ponytail around a little bit.

"Everyone in the arcade will be fine without me, including the other racers," she mumbled out, shaking her head before suddenly looking down in a sense of rejection. "It's not like any of them really _like_ me, anyway..."

At her sad, revealing words, Ralph felt his face fall a little, it's strong anger that was renewed falter a bit.

The way Vanellope said that was so matter-of-factly, as if there was never a truer statement ever made- cutting Ralph straight to his code.

He never knew she honestly felt that way about her fellow racers in Sugar Rush; everything seemed fine from his point of view...from the outside looking in, he guessed. Why hadn't she ever told him about how she felt?...

He was about to counter it all, to say it wasn't true, that she was wrong 'cause who wouldn't love her?- when it hit him that he was the one wrong here.

This kid was right: the racers back home didn't really care about her. Not sincerely, at least. Maybe they had for a few days after the reset, trying to earn her favor...but things deescalated after that.

After 6 years, they weren't her real friends- nor did they view her as a real friend in return. They weren't close to her, nor was she close to them.

They were all simply game mates, not real family, he guessed...

All at once, Ralph sighed again, his large shoulders slumping in slight defeat as his headache came roaring back.

"Kid, even if that was true," he began, his voice pointedly losing its bite, "the racers still need that steering wheel. Sugar Rush is those kids' home, it's their everything-"

At his words, suddenly Vanellope's soft face became harsh again, twisting up in anger. She glitched softly in her place, her tiny body pixelating before Ralph's eyes- and he knew he had struck a nerve in her.

"ThAt doesn't meeean it has to be **mY** home oR **my** eveeeeerything, though!" she hissed out unevenly, stomping one of her pixelating feet.

"Yes, it **does**, actually, Vanellope!" The wrecker told her without skipping a beat. He was somehow able to numb his instinctive need to soothingly comfort her every time she involuntarily glitched due to being emotional or upset- and instead glared sharply back at her.

It was time she matured and grew up- and put others before herself.

"You know why?" he continued sharply. "Because you're the _president_ of that game! You're _their_ president, and-"

"Well, you know what, Ralph?" the child contented as she interrupted him yet again, tipping her head back and forth in a mocking manner. "News flash: I never **asked** to be the president of Sugar Rush! I just wanted to be accepted as a racer and to race- that didn't mean I wanted to _rule_ the stinkin' game! That's what the stupid game decided _for_ me!"

Placing his large hands on his hips, Ralph couldn't help but mock her right back.

"Well, _you_ know what, kid?" he mimicked, pausing to jab a meaty thumb at his chest. "_My_ game decided I was a bad guy, a way less cool and fun role than being a president! But that's what I am; if the game says I'm the bad guy, so I'm the bad guy!"

When Vanellope could only roll her eyes and mock his tone under her breath, Ralph rushed on.

"I can't change that! Trust me, I tried- and there are _still_ times when I hate being the bad guy," he continued to tell her, his words simple yet candid. "But I accept it now. And **_you_** need to accept your role as president of Sugar Rush! That is that!" he then finally told her frankly, gripping his fists as he stomped his foot childishly.

In unimaginable growing anger, Vanellope was about to snap back at him some quick, harsh, cruel quip at him, that he didn't care about her, that he didn't want her to be happy, did he?- before biting her tongue. Hard.

Hurting Ralph more wasn't going to solve anything, nor would it increase the chances that he'd understand, she knew...not like dealing with the real issue at hand here would...

Sighing slowly and determinedly, Vanellope closed her hazel eyes. All she had to do was inwardly remind herself of the truth.

_Slaughter Race__ is worth it... Shank and the gang are worth it_...

_My very happiness is worth it..._ _Just try to strike__ softer but more direct plows in his wall here, Van..._

Slowing opening them once more, her eyes filled with renewed strength.

_I can do this..._

"But why must it be like that? Why must I just accept my role in Sugar Race?" Vanellope suddenly and pointedly defended, her shoulders slumping slightly as she whined. "For so long I had been forced to 'accept' my 'role' as a hated glitch, then I was forced to accept I was a president, which has gotten old after a while..."

Mindlessly twisting her pull strings around and around her small fingers, the little girl looked down- a weird mix of relief yet shame at admitting the truth of her feelings. Those were words she had been dying to get out of her mindset and to really be heard for a long time coming now...

Eyeing back up at her best friend, she vaguely gestured to the dark-vibed, ghost-town game around them- somewhat inviting her stubborn Stink Brain to subtly do the same.

"But here in Slaughter Race," the child contrasted, "I get to do whatever I want, get to _be_ whatever I want- **_I_** get to choose. I'm _finally_ free to choose, not forced to 'accept' something anymore. Why would I go back to a game where I can't be as free, a-and I just accept my role there?" Vanellope then asked sincerely and reasonably, eyeing Ralph with the softness eyes he'd ever seen of her...

Pulling his eyes away from her piercing ones and instead of looking around them himself, Ralph felt his shoulders tense up slightly as her words sunk in a little.

Although he hated to mentally admit it -he would never _dare_ to admit to her out loud- Vanellope did have a somewhat valid point there. Slaughter Race offered way more freedom to this kid than Sugar Rush ever did.

_Is that way she wants to stay here in Slaughter Race?_ _I__s she just not content with her role in her game anymore and just wanting something better- just like I once did?_

The last few of his mental words ringing in his ears, Ralph knew it wasn't like he could just get on to her for feeling this way or just easily refute her reasoning all too easily...Especially since himself did something quite similar about 6 years ago...

Before he met his little sister, his little Fart Feathers...

Sighing painfully at the thought of what his life was like before she ever stepped into it -or horribly imagining what it could be like if she stepped _out_ of it- Ralph's own shoulders slumped.

Her words oddly only made his determination stronger; he was going to convince her to come back home.

_I can do this..._

"Ok, kid. I get it, really, I do," Ralph finally told her sincerely, eyes pleading with her to listen and hear him out. "But, like it or not, you are the president of Sugar Rush- that's just how it worked out, kid!"

"Why does the game depend on me being the ruler, anyway, though?" the child barked in reply, her razor-like tongue sharpened. "It's a democracy! Let _Taffyta_ be the leader, for all I care! That's probably what she really wants, anyway!"

At her candid, harsh words, Ralph ran a large hand through his hair and threw his head back exasperatedly.

Reasoning with Vanellope was going to be way harder than he thought.

"Kid, listen to me," he begged her, taking a couple of calm steps towards her, his huge hands up to calm her. "I know it's hard, but you can't change who or what you are..."

In reply, Vanellope just snorted rudely, taking a few defensive steps back from him as he paused in walking.

"Oh, like _you're_ the one to talk, Ralph," she challenged. "You just admitted a few seconds ago you wanted a change in your game, so much so that you abandon your game for something different, remember?" She gestured towards him slightly. "The penthouse, the pies, the ice sculptures, the fireworks...any of that ringa bell?"

Shaking his head so roughly his cookie medal was justled around, Ralph placed an exasperated hand on his hip.

She was not about to turn all of this around on him.

"Hey, that was kinda a different situation and you _know_ it!" he roared at her in defense, jabbing a large finger at her. "I wasn't just 'bored' with my game, or-or wanted to find a new game to live in. I was sick and tired of how I was being treated and wanted to prove myself, get some better recognition than I had..."

"**_ExAcTly_****_!!!_ **" Vanellope screeched again in indignation, shaking and glitching slightly she was so frustrated. "_You_ wanted all that for yourself, Ralph! _You_ wanted to choose what you were, who you were! What _you_ wanted to do and go and be! You weren't truly happy in what your game choose for you, so you ran off to change it!"

"Yeah, but I came back once I realized how vital my role was in the game and that being the bad guy was who I was, kid!" Ralph countered sharpen, causing Vanellope to shrink back a little. "And besides, not one ounce of any of what I was looking for ended up being what I really wanted or needed...or _found_, anyway..."

He trailed off pointedly, avoiding looking at Vanellope at all cost now that he felt himself growing in sadness and frustration. He rubbed the nape of his neck upsettingly, his heart in his chest pounding- and cracking ever so slowly.

_She just doesn't understand..._

"But I _know_ this is what I really want, Ralph!" Vanellope told him strongly, standing tall as she pleaded with him to understand how she felt- to try to understand, at least. "This game is what I've been wanting for...for forever! Before the reset in Sugar Rush, all I wanted was to race..."

She trailed off herself, her eyes lightened in intensity as she dreamfully looked around her. The smog-filled air getting thicker and thicker, she spun in a little circle.

"But here in the Internet, here in Slaughter Race... I really get to _live!"_ She told Ralph, her voice light and happy as she spun around to face him. "And without having to be the president over anyone! I can come and go as I please- and there are no tracks here, even!"

At her own words of confirmation, Vanellope blinked peacefully up into the oppressive Slaughter Race sky -as if she couldn't believe it was all true herself...

And forcing his eyes to reluctantly fall back on her, it was then Ralph couldn't deny it any longer.

He couldn't just pretend the glow in her huge smile wasn't there, just act like she didn't ball her fists in childish, unrestrained excitement- and that he hadn't seen her do that in a few good years...

He couldn't just look past the way she seemed so content, so elated at being in the fierce game, just completely disregard the way she sighed so ironically and whimsically around the dark game of Slaughter Race- just like it was her new home, her new everything...

And worse of all, Ralph couldn't just ignore the amount of pure, true happiness in Vanellope's eyes- never seeing it nearly as strong in all these past great 6 years...

Maybe Ralph had just forced himself to be so blind all these years. Maybe he just lied to himself- and had told himself that all this time Vanellope was truly happy at the arcade in Sugar Rush -with him by her side- and that she'd never want anything more out of life.

Maybe everything was safest that way, ignoring all the potential hazardous cracks in their friendship. Maybe Ralph knew he had a strong wall up, but pleaded that it was never knocked down...

And maybe, just maybe...

"This...this is all I ever wanted. This is where I belong," Vanellope finally confirmed, sighing softly as she looked directly back at her best friend...

Right before whispering the very words that Ralph couldn't bear to hear, the strong few words that killed him far more than Vanellope would ever begin to know...and that nearly sliced his identity in her in half.

"This...this is **_enough_** for me," she breathed softly, her voice so gentle and delicate now- not knowing how much she was emotionally stabbing Ralph.

She closed her eyes tightly and sighed calmly through her nose, a growing smile overtaking her face. The child allowed a true sense of peace filled her deeply as her senses once again took her the smells, the sounds, the _feelings_ of the game around her..._her_ game...

But as she slowly opened her eyes, Vanellope could only see Ralph eyeing her with a look she'd never seen from him before.

A look of pain, fear...

And rejection.

No, he had to understand where she was coming from. He just had to.

Didn't he?

_Maybe that hole in the brick wall was a little too large for the big guy to handle..._

Gulping back a new guilty knot in her throat, Vanellope found her eyes soften considerably.

"A-and why must I throw this all away just to go back to the arcade to some old candy game?" she asked him gently, twisting her tiny fingers over and over again as she allowed him time to hopefully reason over her words, understanding them... and accept them.

Gulping back the now huge knot in his throat, though, Ralph couldn't look her in the eye- never quite feeling this much pain before.

"Kid...," he choked out softly one last point of beseechment, his eyes begging her to really listen. "I get it. You love this game. You love Shank and the racing and everything else here," he acknowledged...

"But sometimes... sometimes you have to put others _needs_ ahead of what you may _want," _he finally told her, his voice soft and kind- and even strangely wise. "And kid, your citizens _need_ you. They need you to get that steering wheel for Sugar Rush...they need you to come back home...In fact, the whole arcade needs you..."

He trailed off, beyond shocked that Vanellope didn't try to deny his words at being true. In fact, it was as if she was thinking them over, chewing on them as she nibbled on her nails and looked away in slowly growing guilt.

The back of his poor neck rubbed raw, Ralph finally abandoned messaging it. Deciding to push his luck, the soft-hearted man weakly gestured between himself and the child before him.

"They need _us_," he gulped out, his throat sore and tight, "to...to stay together..."

At his revealing words, the child stopped chewing on her thumbnail in contemplation, stopped thinking over his words all at once. Jerking her head up to look at him square in the eye again, Vanellope's once soft, kind eyes were instantly made harsh, narrowed and angry.

At those few words, everything became painfully clear to the child suddenly. Exactly why Ralph was here, trying to win her over...why he was trying to 'convince' her that Sugar Rush needed her...

Why he didn't want her living here in Slaughter Race...in the very game that made her the happiest she'd ever been...

And it was all because of that brick wall.

It was suddenly time to forget the soft plows. Forget the gentleness. Forget trying to take down Ralph's strong wall brick by brick -a wall Vanellope now hated with a passion.

It was time to outright _wreck_ that stupid, over-protective, self-destructive wall of his.

Shaking her large head slowly -solely from shock, annoyance or disgust, she didn't know- the child gawked at the childish man before her.

"_Really_, Ralph?" she hissed, her voice the harshest it had been all day- possibly the harshest Ralph had ever heard it. "Every single one of those racers and the 'whole arcade' needs _US_ to stay together?!"

Before Ralph could weakly interject, the irate child continued, her small hand held up to prevent him from speaking.

"No," she mockingly corrected herself before she clenched her teeth, "it's just YOU who so-call 'needs' me with you! All because YOU can't live one moment without me being glued to your stupid side! THAT'S what all of this is about! You don't care about Sugar Rush or about the arcade..."

She bitterly shook her head again- before realizing a startling revelation in her own mind.

"In fact, you don't even really care about ME!" she concluded, her face squishing in pain.

Jerking his head back in shock and disgust at her last few sentences, Ralph himself gawked down at her.

_Now she's just talking crazy._

"Wha- oh, _come on_, Vanellope!" he pointedly whined, physically going limp in frustration. "Of course I care about you! I wouldn't be fighting for you to come back home if I didn't care about you and your welfare!"

"No, you _don't_ care about me, Ralph!" she countered sharply- although her voice had a definitely wobble to it this time. "If you did, you'd let me live here in Slaughter Race!! You'd be happy I found my dream game, where I truly belong- and where I truly need to be!!"

Her stance making it clear how she felt now, the child's anger slowly replaced with genuine pain and disgust. For a brief moment, she couldn't even look at him, afraid she would start crying if she did.

"I can't _believe_ you!" she finally tried glared up at her best friend, but all that came bubbling up from her eyes were rare, scary real tears. "You don't want me to be happy because you're so _selfish!"_

Clenching his own teeth, Ralph glared down at her, his own hurt and rejection quite evident on his face. He hated seeing her this close to tears- but he hated her accusation even more.

And it wasn't like she exactly innocent here, either. She was being quite selfish herself, when Ralph thought about it...

"Well, I can't believe _you're_ choosing that crazy rebel Shank over me!" he growled defensively, jabbing a large finger at himself as if to prove his point.

Rolling her eyes in fury, Vanellope snorted sadly in return.

"You are so _needy_, Ralph! I'm not choosing anyone over you!" she spat out, crossing her arms over her chest once again.

"Well, it sure _looks_ like you are!" Ralph countered angrily, narrowing his eyes at her.

Before she could come up with some kind of argument, the wrecker stomped forward with heavy footsteps shaking the ground like thunder.

"Well, answer me this, kid! Who saved you from Turbo, huh?" he asked her rhetorically, causing the child to defensively shake her head- but to look away embarrassingly as she did. "W-who protected you, fought for you- AND your game? I don't think it was that Shank lady!"

At his questioning, Ralph shakily slipped off his precious necklace the accused child had made for him. Dangling the cookie medal in front of her, the wrecker's eyes soften just for a moment in time- the way they always did with looking at the heart necklace...

_The only heart I'll ever need..._

"Who did you make **_this_** for, huh?" he then finally asked Vanellope to drive his point home, the light, delicate cookie medal slightly swaying in the smog-filled breeze. "For me, remember?!"

In growing anger, the child stomped toward him and the loving gift she gave him six odd years ago. She could see nothing but red now- hating how Ralph was trying to use a simple hand-made medal to make her feel so terrible.

"Well, I'm starting to wonder why I ever _did_ make that stupid medal for you in the first place!" She growled in anger -so angry she couldn't even hear the horrible, bitter words she was saying as she now glowered right in front of a startled Ralph. "You clearly don't even deserve it now!"

Glitching softly and feeling uncontrollable, uncontained emotions seeping beyond the surface, she purposely knocked at Ralph's hand- causing the fragile necklace to slip from his large fingers. Eyes wider than they had ever been, Ralph briefly watched in horror as his precious necklace hit the dirt ground with a soft but safe thud.

"Because all you are is a selfish, clingy, needy _**bad guy!!!"** _Vanellope then screamed in Ralph's face...

And in unimaginable blind rage and frustration, she haphazardly stomped her small foot as hard as she could muster to get out her animosity...

Not knowing the cookie medal had fallen right beneath her.

A small, faint _crack_ drifted up to both pairs of ears, causing both friends to abandon looking at each other and to slowly look down.

As Vanellope moved her booted foot ever so slightly, both she and Ralph saw what used to be a messy, crumbly heart of a cookie necklace- now perfectly split down the middle. Its' ribbon, too, was even ripped in two, each half containing a piece of the broken heart at the end.

In shock and horror, Ralph gasped loudly, and before Vanellope could even think to say anything resembling an apology, he had dropped down on his knees and his huge but gentle hands were hopelessly starting to hover over the two pieces of his medal.

Feeling like he was picking up his own broken heart off the ground, the distressed wrecker gingerly and shakily picked up the two pieces of his necklace with his fingers, his stomach flopping around in pain. Eyes briefly dancing back and forth between the two broken parts of his beloved medal, he suddenly and distraughtly looked up at Vanellope...

And instantly she knew that he thought she had broken his medal -clearly his most cherished possession- on purpose.

Feeling her own eyes immediately widen, Vanellope backed up slowly- fear and guilt filling her heart beyond belief.

She knew it was justifiable to be mad at Ralph, to let him know just how angry she was. She could yell at him, scream out her frustration...

But she _never_ meant to break that medal. Never.

No matter how mad she'd get, no matter how angry she was, she would never purposely break Ralph's medal. His most precious possession. His good guy necklace...

His very medal that confirmed how much of a hero he really, truly was.

"I- I didn't mean to...I didn't mean to break it!" Vanellope cried quickly, hyperventilating softly as panic seized her. "I'm so sorry I broke it, Ralph!"

When he verbally didn't respond -his eyes watering and hands shaking was enough of a reply, though- Vanellope crept closer slowly, refusing to look at Ralph in the face. She knew she'd break out into a sob if she did.

"I-I'll fix it, or-or we'll get Felix to!" she quickly stated, silently begging him to be ok, for things to be ok...

For _them_ to be ok.

"If he can't fix it, then I'll- I'll make you another one, really!" she stumbled out, strongly gripping the sides of Ralph's massive hands. "I will!! I'll even go back to Sugar Rush to make you another one and everything will be ok!...Alright?!!"

But Ralph didn't -couldn't- answer her. Couldn't even _look_ at her. He was too numb for words, struggling too hard to keep his bottom lip steady.

All he could do was stare at his beloved medal, split into two halves...

The heart that bore his very identity... now completely ripped in two- and agonizingly causing him to feel his own heart silently do the same.

_The only heart that really matters...The only heart I'll ever want...the only one I'll ever need..._

Before him, Vanellope shook his hands roughly, suddenly frantic for his attention. For his soft voice to tell her was ok. For him to soothe her, to comfort her...

She was desperate for his unfailing care.

"**_TaLLLLk_** tO mE, WOoooULD YA, STink bRAin?!" she finally screamed unevenly, her voice altered by a strong, distorted glitch overtaking her.

But her frantic shaking did little to knock him out of his trance, except causing him to heave slightly in the clear pain overtaking his broad chest.

A chill unlike any before ran up her spine as Vanellope glitched softly once again, the familiar electronic sound her involuntarily pixelating being the only thing heard between the two of them.

Blocking out everything around her in her dream game but Ralph, the child abandoned trying to get him to at least speak to her. Instead of begging anymore, she finally resorted to laying her head in his huge, outstretched hands in misery. Heaving in pain, in worry. Feeling crushed under the weight on her heart now...

Feeling her best friend's wall come crashing down right on top of her.

_This can't be happening._.._This just **CAN'T** be happening..._

Unable to take the emotional wave after emotional wave drowning him anymore, Ralph silently slipped his hands from under Vanellope's head, hardly seeming to even notice she had laid it there. As he balled up his mighty fingers, the two pieces of the necklace remaining almost glued to his hands, safe even though they were split.

Gulping back a huge knot stuck in his tight throat, the weak wrecker stood up...and gently cradled both halves of his beloved close to him as he swallowed back yet more tears threatening to leak out.

Her heart racing and skipping too many beats for comfort, Vanellope peered up at him...and knew she had messed up majorly.

All she could do now was watched as her best friend, her Stink Brain...Her very hero turned to leave her...

Abandon her -and his once cherished identity- in the very game she fought so hard for...

Right before he said the next few words that made Vanellope regret everything- especially since she knew she had savagely broken down the whole brick wall with her two bare hands.

"Just-Just know...," he mumbled weakly, his tone breaking her heart in two, "that being your best friend was always enough for me."

**(E/N: Later on, Ralph resorts to the 'unthinkable': going into the Dark Net to get the insecurity virus as one last desperate attempt to get Vanellope to get back home.** **(In this case, the verbal fight they have after that mostly stays the same, with a few tweaks here and there. Of course, it's already been revealed to Vanellope that Ralph had listened into her convo with Shank and the cookie medal has already been broken. So in my mind, the Ralphpocalypse happens pretty quickly after V wakes up lol...**

**Anywho**, **I'm working**** on another one-shot on how I wished the "goodbye" scene had gone instead of what the movie did lol ****That one-shot is mostly done (surprisingly lol), so I'll be releasing it soon!)**


End file.
